Crossing Enemy Lines
by Forget.To.Remeber
Summary: A story centered around Griffin O'Conner and a Paladin OC, it begins directly after the movie and focuses on these two as they interact and manage to have a relationship as the war between paladins and jumpers wages on. Sorry for the bad summary!
1. Chapter 1: Beginning

_Beep…Beep…Beep._

"Jaeger." The girl mumbled sleepily into the phone, eyes still closed as she held the device to her ear. Tangled sheets were wrapped determinedly around her lower half, sticking uncomfortably to her sweat-soaked body. Frowning, she worked to get free of the annoying bedding, mentally cursing the lack of air conditioning in the hotel as she did. _What idiot builds a hotel that doesn't have air conditioning in the middle of the fucking summer?_ She wondered, finally able to peel the sheets away from her skin. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat, phone still pressed to her ear, blinking sleep from her eyes.

"Reason here." The girl growled impatiently into the phone, realizing she had yet to receive a reply. Another moment of silence followed and, even more annoyed, she brought the phone in front of her face so she could read the screen.

_Alarm set for: 7:30_

_Current time: 7:34_

_Good Morning!_

"Oh. Right." She felt a little embarrassed, though she was completely alone in the hotel room that lacked air-conditioning, so there was no one there to see her. Flipping the cell phone closed, she groggily made her way into the bathroom and turned on the sink. Dirty blonde hair was pulled back from her face and the phone set aside as she began to get ready for the day. Gingerly, cold water was splashed on her face and any lingering feelings of sleep were scrubbed away. A shower would have been nice to rid herself of a night's worth of sweat, but before she could even turn on the water her phone began beeping once more, and this time it wasn't just her alarm.

"Jaeger." She answered again, this time more awake.

"Is that really how you answer your phone?" A male voice asked, sounding amused. Instantly Reason Jaeger's expression soured, turning to a scowl in no time flat. Exiting the small bathroom and making her way over to her suit-case, Reason took the phone from her ear, put it on speaker and set it on the nearby dresser.

"What do you want dad?" She asked grudgingly while fishing around for some clean clothes in her baggage.

"Don't sound so excited to hear from me." She could easily imagine him rolling his eyes to match his sarcastic tone, though it had been months since the two had spoken in person. "You've got work to do sweet heart. You've been assigned to pick up a jumper out in a war zone. I've already sent the coordinates to your car's GPS and a transport team is on it's way, but won't be able to get there for another two hours. You're gonna go and make sure the bastard doesn't go anywhere alright?" A wide grin spread across Reason's face when she realized she might get to see some action.

"Great I'll be there as soon as I can." She said quickly, hurrying to pull on a fresh set of clothes to replace the ones she had slept in. A black tank, black light-weight cargo pants, and black army boots. God forbid Paladin actually blend in. None the less she clipped a few freshly-charged weapons to her belt loops and shrugged on the _very _inconspicuous dark trench coat.

"Be safe sweet-" The phone was clicked closed, the call ended, and Reason on her way out the door.


	2. Chapter 2: Morning Sunshine

_AN: Just to avoid some confusion I thought I should mention that of Steven Gould's books, I've only read __Griffin's Story__, and I'm including some elements from this book. During this chapter I bring in the concept of 'Sensitives' or Paladins that have the ability to sense when a Jumper jumps within a certain range. Oh and since I forgot to mention this in the intro, I in no way, shape, or form own anything, at all, with the exception of characters that you don't recognize, such as Reason. _

She felt him long before she actually saw him. After the first one, she slammed on the gas hoping he hadn't managed to slip away. But then another came, and then another and she knew even though he was jumping, her target wasn't getting anywhere. Still, she didn't slow the jeep she was driving. It felt almost surreal, speeding through a fucking war zone as though she was on a highway, but then again when had her job ever been normal? Another jump. This one was so strong she nearly ran over some unlucky solider that was standing much too close to the make shift road. Swerving, she just barely managed to miss the poor sap, but now she knew she was getting close. The next few jumps were equally vicious on her senses and she was quick to pop a Tylenol. The pill was rough going down her dry throat and for the hundredth time she cursed the god forsaken summer-weather. Jump. Another jump. Another. Another. They came in quick succession and Reason was sure that the Jumper must have seen her approach. She began ignoring the GPS and letting his jumping lead her to him.

"Ah there you are." She muttered. It wasn't hard to spot the idiot, strung up in a bunch of twisted metal and wires. Chuckling, she wondered what special kind of stupid it took for a jumper to jump into a electrical tower. _Hell, what idiot would even jump to Chechnya in the first place?_ The jeep bucked over the last short stretch of the rocky road and pulled to a stop not far from the electrical tower before Reason opened the driver's door. Stepping out, and leaving the car running since it was bloody hot and she hoped she would be able to return to the air conditioned vehicle relatively quickly, she examined the now motionless figure that was caught up in the broken metal framework. He wasn't actually that far from the ground, only a little higher then Reason's height and easily reached with the aid of an improvised stepping stool made from tires that she pried from a half-destroyed truck and stacked on top of each other. The unconscious jumper was tugged and yanked unceremoniously free from his electric prison without too much trouble, though the effort did leave the girl with a few mild electrical burns on her forearms and hands that stung like hell. Once he tumbled out of the tower and to the sandy ground, Reason rolled the young man onto his back and proceeded to cuff his hands together in the front. The cuffs were of course no ordinary hand cuffs, rather an invention of some Paladin designed to deliver a nice ten-thousand volt shock to whoever was unlucky enough to be wearing them when they were 'jumped' thus preventing any Jumper wearing them from teleporting. Calmly she produced a small ink pad from one of the many pockets of her cargo pants along with a strip of paper about half the size of a ruler. Pressing each of the man's fingers first against the ink and then to the paper she took fingerprints from both his hands before returning the to jeep and scanning them into the car's built in computer. While the system looked for a match, she elected to wait sitting sideways in the driver's seat of the car with the door open so she could both enjoy the air conditioning while keeping an eye on her captive. It wasn't a long wait, the paladin having been smart enough to narrow the search to adult male jumpers so the program had a much smaller criteria to scan.

"_Match found."_ The computer generated voice sounded only a few short minutes after she had scanned the prints. She inspected the page uninterestedly until her eye's fell on a very familiar name. _Griffin O'Conner._

"Holy shit." She mumbled, looking around sharply at the knocked out man in surprise. She never would have guessed the infamous, paladin killing adult jumper was the same stupid fuck that had practically handed himself to her. Roland was gonna want this one alive. She hurried back to the unconscious jumper and, checking his pulse, was relieved to find he seemed pretty stable. She moved onto the next order of business: Keeping the idiot alive until the transport team arrived. Her medical training was hardly professional but it would have to do so she gave the man a quick look over. Burns from where his skin had been touching the metal of the tower, cuts and bruising that were probably from struggling to get loose, likely dehydration from the time he spent stuck there, and finally the fact that he was unconscious. It took some digging around in the jeep to find medical supplies but in the end her search was a success, producing not only a first aid kit but also an IV needle and a few bags of what Reason recognized as fluid drips. A few blankets also from the jeep were made into a crude bed and tent where, with much exertion, she moved the young man. When she had him out of the burning sun she took a short break to report the man's identity to the transport team. Her Chechen was rough at best, and the language always sounded awkward when spoken with her South African accent, but the mention of Griffin O'Connor seemed to speak for itself as the voice she spoke with on the phone got very excited and began shouting words like 'fast', 'coming', and 'no move' before hanging up abruptly. Mumbling to herself about what a god forsaken place she was in, with crazy people, an ugly language and intolerable weather, she went back to the jumper.

Cutting away one of the sleeves of his leather jacket, the action made easy by the material's already charred and tattered condition, she swiped clean a small portion of his arm with an antiseptic wipe before carefully inserting the IV needle which was by then hooked up to one of the fluid drip bags. She spent the next twenty minutes, though it felt like longer in the unforgiving heat, trying her best to bandage the worst of the burns and cuts. It was a little hard to find the wounds, considering he was coated in a thick layer of dirt and sweat and blood but she managed well enough and by the time he started to come to she was just about finished. She wiped her grimy hands off on the thighs of her pants before letting her fingers come to rest against one of the weapons still clipped to her belt loops. While she didn't think the man would be able to put up much of a fight, between his health and jump-preventing restraints, she knew his reputation and wasn't taking any chances as she gave the area a quick look over for anything that he might be able to turn into a weapon.

He woke up all at once, no sleepy confusion or drowsy slowness and almost immediately his eyes came to focus on the girl. "Morning sunshine." Her voice sounded at ease, even friendly, as her eyes met her captive's. He jerked up into a sitting position, wincing a little as he agitated some of his injuries, but kept his eyes focused on her.

"Qui sont vous? Who are you?" He demanded in French and then English, only to seemingly answer his own question by catching sight of the standard paladin weapons that were still clipped to her belt. The feeling of his attempted jump was sharp in Reason's head, and she had to hide a smirk when he was violently shocked with ten thousand volts. His image flickered in front of her but remained in the same place, seizing slightly with the shock.

"I wouldn't try that again if I were you." She advised, sticking to English since her French was about as good as her Chechen, and spinning her shock stick with practiced ease. It was a cylinder about the length and width of a ruler that acted as a tazer of sorts, and Reason made sure he was aware of the weapon. He glared at her, but said nothing leaving the two in an awkward silence that Reason quickly filled. "I'd think you'd had enough frying for one day, having been all caught up in those wires." She shrugged, perfectly at ease. After all, what did she have to be nervous about? Sure he probably had a few inches and a few pounds on the girl, but he was restrained and obviously in sore shape not to mention the variety of weapons she had at her disposal.

"What do you want?" He growled, moving to stand. She clicked her tongue like a disapprovingly mother while pointing to the ground with her shock-stick, still repressing a smirk. She could see the defiance boiling up behind his glaring eyes, but he obeyed none the less.

"What makes you think I want something?" She questioned, a bit of genuine curiosity in her voice.

"Well, might have something to do with the fact that I'm still alive." He spat sarcastically.

"Are you always this unfriendly?" She asked teasingly. "Anyway you give yourself too little credit, Mr. Griffin O'Conner. Roland would be greatly disappointed if he discovered you died by power line. And wouldn't that be a boring end to the great paladin-killer?" Again he was silent, but before Reason could say anything more a quiet ringing cut her off. She looked at Griffin for a moment, confused, before remembering the phone inside the car.

"Hello?" She answered, wondering if the transport team had been held up in some way and keeping an eye on her captive.

"Reason, this is Roland."

"Sir?" She questioned, mind already racing with reasons the high up paladin would be calling.

"Is it true that you have Griffin O'Conner in custody?"

"Yes, sir. I have the jumper restrained and am waiting for a transport team to come collect him." She paused a moment before adding: "I figured you would like to terminate this one yourself."

"That will have to wait." Reason grimaced at the sour tone his voice had taken on, "I called to warn you that the American jumper that I've been following got away and is known to have connections with O'Conner. I wouldn't be surprised if he paid you a visit."

"Understood sir." She responded, glancing back at Griffin once more only to see that he had risen to his feet. Luckily Roland seemed to have finished telling her everything he'd wanted to and thus short formalities were exchanged and the call ended. Frowning she hurried over to her prisoner.

"Where exactly do you think your going?" She asked, not liking the suspicious smirk he now wore.

"Just stretching my legs." He responding, feigning innocence. She regarded him doubtful.

"Bullshit." She muttered, and opened her mouth to order Griffin to sit down again only to stop short as the feeling of a jump shot through her mind. Her eyes naturally snapped to Griffin, panicking for a moment that he had somehow gotten free of the cuffs, but found him still standing in the same place smirking wickedly. And then- _bam._ Pain erupted from the base of her skull and Reason's world began spinning and shifting unsteadily before her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3: It's War, Love

_AN: Third installment, this one with a bit more action then there have been in the previous ones along with more Griffin who I really hope is in character. Also, since there is more Griffin there is naturally more language, so be warned. Anyway thanks to everyone that has reviewed it's really appreciated :) Again, I own nothing at all with the exception of characters you don't recognize. So yeah, enjoy!_

_Bam._ Pain erupted from the base of her skull and Reason's world began spinning and shifting unsteadily before her eyes. Blindly, her hand groped for her spare shock stick. _Shit. Shit. Shit._ She thought, stumbling forward a few steps before regaining her footing enough to stop and turn on her attacker. Thrusting forward, she used her thumb to flick on the weapon and was relieved when she hit something. A surprised, pained shout gave her a twinge of satisfaction as she blinked her vision clear. While the name escaped her, the new face present instantly set off bells in her mind. _He's that American jumper. The one that caused all the ruckus in Rome that Roland was talking about._ She thought, mind racing as she drew the grappling hook style gun. It wasn't her favorite weapon, but she had to admit it was effective. While the American jumper was still twitching from her last assault, Reason quickly took aim, finger posed just a hair above the trigger and- her air was cut off. Not only was she unable to breath but the skin on her neck was suddenly buzzing painfully, and then burning with an electrical charge. At first her fingers tensed, pulling the trigger of the gun and firing it off in some unknown direction before spasming and causing the gun to fall away from her hand. Then her hands were clawing at her neck, fighting as if by their own accord both for air and to stop the pain. Because that was all she could think of: Air. Burning. Air. Pain. Air. Pain. Air. Air. Air. Air. Slowly, her lungs' demands took precedence over those of her tortured nerves. Even though she was sure her eyes were already closed, a darker blackness pushed at the corners of her lids, and the body that had been rebelling moments before began to go limp.

"Griffin! She's out already!" A far-away sounding voice spoke in a thick American accent. Just as she thought the blackness might overcome her, Reason felt the strangling, searing force being removed from her throat and her body slide away from whatever had been holding her in place. Gasping breaths ensued, angry lungs sucking up as much air as they could even if it was thick with dirt and smoke.

"What? Don't give me that look, you stupid American prat. She's a fucking paladin, or didn't you notice her little zap-toys?" The Irishman sneered as a boot roughly shoved into her side. Reason quickly decided it was best she keep her eye's closed, lest have the last three minutes or so repeat themselves. "If I hadn't gotten her with these bloody fucking cuffs you'd have been crispier then burnt chips." With oxygen restored to her brain, the crumpled Paladin realized what had taken place. She realized the horrible sizzling, suffocating chord around her neck must have been the connecting part of the cuffs she had put on Griffin O'Conner and that he must have snuck up behind her while she was trying to deal with…Daniel? Darren? David? Something along those lines. Mentally she winced, letting herself get tricked so easily. She had _assumed_ that if Griffin tried anything it would involve jumping, and that she would know instantly. _Never underestimate a Jumper. They're never as stupid as you have the potential to be._ She mentally cringed as the familiar scolding came to mind.

"As much as I'd like to stay and argue with you," The American shot back, "I have to get back to Millie. I only came back to make sure you weren't dead."

"She's alive?" Griffin seemed genuinely surprised. "What about Roland?" _Roland._ Reason thought, wondering if he'd had a run in with the two jumpers that were standing over her.

"Millie's fine, and Roland is taken care of."

"You killed him? Bloody hell I didn't think you had it in you!"

"I didn't kill him." And just like that, to spare himself from Griffin O'Conner's temper, the American jumped to god knows where.

"Fucking shit!" Griffin shouted, bringing his foot again into Reason's side to vent his frustration. Her body rose up with the force of the kick, the air forced from her lungs as she fought the urge to cry out. "Stupid fucking American idiot." He growled, crouching down right near Reason and checking her pulse much like she had done to him not 30 minutes earlier. "Still alive." He mumbled absently before beginning angrily again, though she could feel him searching her clothing for something. "Bloody bastard, didn't kill fucking Roland when he had the chance. Stupid, stupid asshole so caught up in his little bambi-eyed girl friend that he can't even see how fucking stupid he is." The English jumper ranted quietly, whether to himself or her, Reason wasn't sure. She continued to act unconscious as he spoke, angry mind racing with plans as to how she would be able to extract her revenge on him. Vicious thoughts of shock-sticks filled her head. "And before he let the worst fucking paladin get away, he left me in those god damned wires to die so he could save his precious little girlfriend. He makes me sick." The jumper stood, seeming to have found whatever it was he'd been looking for though his voice was still filled with malice. She heard the sound of something dropping to the ground and peeking open one eye just a sliver revealed the cuffs laying free of his wrists in the dirt not far from her. "Then you come along, Paladin fucking Barbie. Fucking twisted bitch you are, patching me up just so you can kill me later. Well you know what sweetheart, you're bloody lucky I've got more important things to do then play around with you, things like killing that American prat David and your asshole boss Roland." He paused, kicking her once more, though not as hard. "Sleep tight princess." She knew he was going to jump, instantly aware the second he began, but what she hadn't known was that her traitorous hand would shoot out and latch onto the man's ankle just as he was about to do it. Mercilessly her body was wrenched after the man as he crossed hundreds, thousands even, of miles in mere moments, air torn from her lungs once more with the force of it. The two landed in a heap, both seeming slightly dazed and confused, though for different reasons. The jumper couldn't explain what had made the jump so sloppy and the landing so horrible for the first few seconds, not comprehending that he'd had a last minute tag-along. The paladin on the other hand had never in her life actually experienced 'jumping', and combined with her own ability it was enough to make her sick. Still, neither individual let their guards' down for long so it was only a very short time that silence enveloped the cave in which they had landed.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" Griffin shouted furiously, finally seeing who exactly had hitched a ride, but by then Reason had already scrambled to her feet and drawn her gun.

"I wouldn't move if I were you." She instructed, feeling the muscles in her face tightening, telling her that she was smirking even though she really didn't feel any joy in having sunk so low as to use a gun. Still, it was sweet revenge to have the prick that'd nearly strangled her kneeling in front of her completely at her mercy. The only thing she lacked was a plan, but that could be improvised as she went.

"Fucking hell I won't-"

"Shut up." She interrupted sharply and was pleasantly surprised when his mouth clicked closed. "Good boy." A wider smirk now, a little bit of mocking in her tone. It was clear from his set jaw and harsh glaring that he was quiet angry with her. So very furious with the paladin, the stupid little girl that he was wishing that he'd killed when he'd had the chance. She could read his thoughts through his gaze, easy as pie, see that burning anger. But she was glad he was livid, absolutely fuming. It would be no fun toying with cowering little shadow of the boy who missed his dead parents and longed for a picture perfect childhood. No, she preferred this one, this taut, feral creature so torn with rage and hate. He was the embodiment of what every jumper had the potential to become if they were allowed to live, the perfect example of an uncontrollable, wild animal that was able to inflict immeasurable damage. "So tell me, where did your little American friend go?" She cooed, surprised at her own sadistic demeanor but enjoying it none the less. He spat at her feet, so in response she bent down closer to him, tracing the barrel of the gun on a path down his throat. His adam's apple jumped. "Come on now, _Griffin_, weren't you just saying how you'd like to kill…David was it? Well I'd love to take care of that for you. Think of it as me fulfilling your last request." When he next opened his mouth to speak she let him.

"You're fucking twisted." He growled.

"A little." She admitted with an unconcerned shrug.

"So what? You're going blow my head off? Shoot me execution style?"

"And disappoint Roland?" She questioned. "No, I'm not going to kill you, I'll save that for Roland. However I will pay you back for this," She lifted her chin up to show the raw, irritated skin on her neck that the cuffs had caused.

"You want an apology? It's war, love." A shadow of a smirk appeared on his face, and Reason was sure he was the only person she'd ever known to be bitchy at gunpoint. A little annoyed with this showing of courage, she cuffed him with the butt of her gun, knocking him off balance. He fell hard to the cave floor, blood welling from a new spilt above his right eye brow.

"Fuck!" He snapped angrily. Pressing the gun hard under his chin and taking a handful of his charred black t-shirt in her free hand she pulled him back to his knees. His glare was pure loathing as he kneeled before her.

"Alright, now your going to tell me where exactly we are." She ordered releasing his shirt and removing the gun from his neck, rather moving the weapon so it again grazing the skin of his forehead.

"Or what? You already said you wouldn't shoot me." He growled snidely.

"Do you really want to find out?" She questioned, pressing the gun a little harder against his temple. He raised his chin a bit, lips pursed into a thin angry line, but said nothing. "That's what I thought. So where did you take us?" She asked again.

"Go to hell." He responded. Reason gritted her teeth in annoyance and got the urge to hit him again. _Stupid stubborn asshole._ She thought in annoyance, opening her mouth to shout some reprimand at him only to stop short. It all happened quickly, Griffin's hand shooting out and clamping down on the wrist of the hand with the gun. Her arm was jerked viciously to one side, Griffin using his grip as leverage to get to his feet while forcing the gun out of her hand. The metal rang out as it flew across the stone floor of the cave, mixing with the distinct crack as Reason's wrist was twisted to an unnatural angle before being released. And before she could even really process what had happened, Griffin was gone. The stab of the jump in her mind resonated, telling her that her prey had managed slip away.

"Shit!" She cursed, scrambling to where her gun had landed. Once the metal was back in her hand her eyes scanned the air in the cave until she spotted the disturbed space that was the jump scar. In frustration she fired off a few shots into the closing scar, jarring her obviously broken wrist as she did so. "I'm going to fucking kill that jumper." She growled as the sound of the shots died away again leaving the cave, and paladin, enveloped in silence.

Griffin's POV

"_Go to hell." He shot back, adrenalin already beginning the shoot through his body in the moments before he made his move. He watched as anger distorted the girl's features_,_ and imagined the surprise that would soon replace it. Then, just as she was about to open that big, annoying mouth of hers again, he lurched forward. His fingers wrapped tight around her wrist, and in one fluid motion he managed to force the gun away from his body while pulling himself to his feet. A vengeful twist sent the gun flying from her hand earned Griffin a satisfying crack. _Take that bitch._ He thought wickedly before moving away from her. A final glance revealed a delicious mixture of pain and panic gracing the girl's features that left Griffin smirking as he jumped away. He landed easily in a French hideout he'd set up a few years back, thinking of his ruined Saharan cave and feeling a twinge of regret at having used the flame thrower…and multi-leveled bus. Sighing heavily he pushed the thoughts of the Lair slip away and be replaced by those of hot food, a long shower, and what exactly he was going to do when he caught up to David. However, just as his aching body had began relaxing a strange sound filled his ears._

"_FUCK!" He shouted, both in surprise and anger, as one of the bullets grazed his arm. Two others zipped by before the jump scar closed, but Griffin avoided both by jumping clear of the shots. He gnashed his teethe together in an effort to keep from shouting out again, cradling his injured upper arm. "I'm going to fucking kill that paladin." _


	4. Chapter 4: I’d Have Preferred the Sharks

_A/N: Hey, sorry it took so long to get this chapter out but unfortunately it will probably be about this long between chapters from now on. I'd already had the first three chapters written when I first began publishing the story, which is why they came out so quickly, where as this fourth one I started writing only after the third was already published. Still I really appreciate the reviews I've gotten so far will continue to write on, and publish, this story. It just may be a little slow. Anyway here is the fourth installment, I hope you all like it (: Oh and one last thing: There is a new character in this chapter, Adrian Ryder, and like Reason he is one of the few things in this story that belongs to me._

Griffin's POV:

"Damn man, who the hell did you piss off?" Griffin glanced sideways at the male nurse with little interest. All the jumper had wanted was to get the worst of his injuries patched up and then get out, which the 24 hour clinic he'd jumped to in San Diego had seemed perfect for. The receptionist had been sleepily flipping through a magazine as she jotted down his fake name, the doctor had looked him over quickly with an utter disinterest before deeming the injuries mild enough to be taken care of by a nurse. Unfortunately, the young male nurse that had been assigned to him seemed completely unaware of the late hour as he gawked at Griffin's wounds.

"A crazy bitch." Griffin muttered, thinking bitterly of what he'd do when he saw that paladin again. The nurse took no notice of the other man's dark expression, rather continuing on undeterred.

"Ex girlfriend or something? She really did a number on you, whoever she was." _Not half as bad as what I'll do to her._ He thought, though taking a quick inventory of his injuries. His head throbbed, the pain radiating from a large lump just above his brow where she'd whaled him with that stupid fucking gun. _Never even let them point a gun at you._ He remembered his father's warning with the ache that the memories of his parents always brought before moving on with his physical checklist. Next of course were the two holes that's been shot in his arm. In truth, he'd been lucky in that the bullets had only grazed him and the nurse was easily stitching both wounds up, but he sure as hell didn't feel lucky. His wrists came to mind, slightly seared from the damn handcuffs Paladin-fucking-Barbie had put on him, not dissimilar to the electrical burns he'd gotten from the tower.

"Yeah." He mumbled in response to the other man, not really in the mood for a conversation with the overzealous young medic.

"I totally understand man, the last chick I was with was like completely loony. Rachel seemed normal- that was her name, Rachel- but man when I tried to end it she went like psycho on me. I mean she was throwing plates and books and she even threw this one vase she'd got from her mom. And I like tried to tell her to just chill but she was all screaming and crying and it was awful!" Griffin didn't listen long before tuning out the nurse, having no interest what so ever in the rambling story about 'Rachel'. A series of nods and grumbled 'yeah's were enough to keep his companion happily babbling on until both of the gun-shot injuries were stitched up. "Alright man your all sewed up. Want some pain killers?" The nurse offered.

"Nah I'll be alright." Griffin refused politely, despite how badly he'd have liked to dull the aching of his entire body. However, he'd have to settle for a warm shower and bed, since he knew from experience that anything that altered his senses or mental sharpness could prove deadly. He quickly returned to the front of the clinic, and after paying in cash, the jumper made his way out into the cool night air and in an instant was gone.

Reason's POV:

"That looks like a pretty nasty break, Ree." A blonde young man observed from his location leaning against the far wall.

"Don't call me that." Reason growled through clenched teethe as the doctor carefully repositioned her wrist back to a more natural angle. "Fuck." She hissed, closing her eyes tight as the pain clouded her thoughts.

"Done soon, miss." The doctor assured her in his broken English.

"Aw come on, _Ree_, I've called you that since we kids." The blonde insisted, ignoring that her face was contorted with pain.

"Of all the places in the world he had to jump to…" She mumbled under her breath, though the man obviously heard her.

"Hey, just be glad the bastard didn't drop you in the shark infested waters like he did the last paladin he got a hold of." The blond scolded. "Not to mention, what better place to spend your recovery time? Jamaica is a great vacation spot."

"Me wrap now, then I done." The doctor informed her, producing a roll of white medical wrap. Holding her wrist in the position he wanted it, his strong deft hands easily began wrapping it over and over again with the stiff, sterile fabric.

"What are you talking about Avery?" She questioned, ignoring the doctor and the throbbing of her wrist. "I'm not taking any time off."

"Your wrist is broken." He stated stupidly.

"Really? I didn't notice." She spat with distaste cringing a little as the doctor tied off the wrapping.

"No get wet, no move. Take off wrap in 2 weeks."

"Thanks." She said with forced politeness, hopping off the examination table and making her way for the door. Avery trotted after her.

"So you can't exactly do anything but desk work with one hand." He pointed out. "Come on, take the next two weeks off. We can catch up." As he said this he snaked his arm around her waist, smirking all the while.

"Ugh." She groaned as she twisted away from his grip. "Was I not clear enough when I requested to be stationed on the other half of the fucking globe?" She asked sharply, still in a foul mood from her encounter with the jumper and painful doctor visit. Not to mention, of all the Paladins whose sectors she could have been dropped in, she'd ended up with _Avery Ryder._ The two had practically been raised together. Born into 'Old Families', there was never a question as to what Reason Jaeger or Avery Ryder were going to do with their lives. They were to be one of the elite, to follow in the foot steps of their predecessors, her father, his grand father, her great grandmother and many others before them that had been of the Jaeger or Ryder blood lines. They weren't born to be just two more dime-a-dozen Paladin, they were born special. They were born _sensitive_, and among Paladin's that meant something. Besides, unlike most paladins, Reason's training had begun at such an early age she couldn't remember a time when it wasn't a part of her life, though the same couldn't be said for Avery who'd started a few years later in his life since he was older then Reason and they'd trained together. The only child of Harrison and Cara Jaeger was raised to be one of the best, and she met everyone's expectations, as had the oldest son of Frank and Allison Ryder. The two differed greatly however on their feelings towards their work. Avery saw being a paladin as the occasional interesting adventure, but mostly a bother. He would have greatly preferred to spend his time spending his family's fortune, since most Old families also possessed old wealth, and relaxing rather then putting his life on the line to hunt down jumpers. Reason on the other hand never considered that there was a life, at least not she was interested in living, that didn't involve hunting jumpers. Though neither came to harbor the hatred for their prey that 'Uncle Roland' had, Reason enjoyed her job enough to earn a reputation of being ruthless and a 'sore loser' where as Avery got one more associated with that of a large-game hunter.

"You always did like to play hard to get." He teased, not seeming at all discouraged. After all, it wouldn't be the first time the two of them had tried to be something more then coworkers, something more then friends. With the paladin lifestyle, options for dates were extremely limited and as much distaste as she had for Avery, even Reason had to admit the Australian was extremely attractive. Gorgeous tan skin, if you could ignore the few scars he had, well defined muscles, a product of his vain-nature and profession, sea green eyes, and dirty blonde curls. However, Avery also knew he was good looking and took advantage of it every chance he could.

"You always were desperate for a date." She countered, because while she couldn't deny his physical attractiveness, she found it quite easy to find his other flaws. He was a narcissistic, egotistical, irresponsible, lieing ass hole that indulged in every whim.

"Ouch, that hurt Ree." He joked, dramatically putting his hand over his heart. "But come on, at least let me buy you lunch."

"I'd have preferred the sharks." She grumbled.


	5. Chapter 5: A Change of Pace

_A/N: I really don't like this chapter much at all but after rewriting it twice now I believe this is as a good as it's going to get. Hopefully it's not too awful and the next one will be out soon :) Enjoy._

Griffin's POV:

He was glad he'd set up a hide out in Paris. The city could be quite touristy, and a little crowded, but he liked it none the less. It was pretty, and in a sort of bitter-sweet way reminded him of his mother. The city, to Griffin, was a good place think, to draw, to recover. All of which he'd spent the last week doing. Griffin's arm was mostly better, the stitches having done their job well and the gunshot wound almost all the way scabbed over. The cut on his forehead was completely gone leaving only a tiny scar, and the bump under it had disappeared within a few days. As his body mended itself, he'd also taken the time sketching out the girl he'd dubbed 'Paladin Barbie'. It'd taken a few tries to get her to look right, making him decide to set aside a bit of time for drawing so as to not get so out of practice, but by the end of the week the young woman's face was hung up next to all the others, the date and location printed messily at the bottom. She got a higher, more central, place on his board then most of the regular paladins. But then again, she'd pissed him off more then most of the regular paladins.

"Sick, twisted bitch, that one." He muttered to himself, scowling at the picture as he tugged a black band shirt over his head, shaking the hair out of his eyes after doing so. "Roland must be so proud." He practically spat, utter distaste coloring his features. Jeans were lazily tugged to his waist, belt laced through the loops, all the while the jumper musing darkly about the paladins he planned to kill aloud to himself. Once he was fully dressed, Griffin glanced at a mirror leaning up against the hideout's/storage garage's wall. The look told him he could probably use a shower and a shave, but he decided against both instead departing without any further altering of his appearance.

"Bonsoir, Paris." He mumbled into the late night, or more early morning, air, setting off walking almost as soon as he'd landed. The streets were filled with the night-crowd, all making their way in and out of clubs and bars and cheap hotels, and he blended in with practiced ease. This wasn't the part of Paris he liked, wasn't the lively, bright, historic city his mother had always wanted to visit. Rather it was the grimy, sex-addicted, drug using part that thrived in the late hours of the night, but it was the part he wanted to be in at the moment. Though Griffin never drank, much like he never took pain-killers, from time to time he found it easy to lose himself in the masses of people, in the pounding music of clubs, in the arms of some girl he had no intention of ever seeing again. Found it necessary really, to keep him sane. Because even though he was a war-hardened, paladin-killing jumper, he was also just a twenty-six year old. And while he was justifying it to himself in his head, he made his way into one of the many clubs.

"S'cuse me," He muttered, inaudible really with the loud music, as a pretty brunette woman knocked into him. She paid no mind to either Griffin or his apology as she let her giggling self be led out of the club by a tall blonde man, causing the jumper to roll his eyes. Annoyance melted away however as lyrics, sung in his favorite language, filled his ears and he started for the bar. He'd just reached the counter when he saw her.

"ce qui peut j'arriver pour vous?" What can I get for you? Asked the bartender, and when he received no response from Griffin, repeated in English.

"Huh?" He asked in surprise, looking away from the girl only for an instant, as though she might disappear.

"What would you like to drink?" The bartender tried a third time, following Griffin's gaze down the counter. "Or would you like to send something to her?" He suggested smirking, winking at the distracted young man. _Would love to send her off a cliff. Or maybe send a bullet through her head. Yeah that'd be great._ Griffin thought sourly, muscles slowly tightening.

"I'll just take a coke." He said instead to the bartender, pulling his gaze away from the girl who'd a week ago had him kneeling at gun point. "And nothing for the girl."

"Suit yourself, she's a pretty little thing and the guy she came with left a few minutes ago." The bartender shrugged before turning to get Griffin's drink.

"She been drinking?" Griffin asked carefully when the bartender placed the soda in front of him.

"Couple beers," The older man shrugged, tending to another customer before returning. "Do you know her?" He questioned, a hint of suspicion audible in his voice even through the French accent.

"Not yet," Griffin said forcing a smile. _And by the time I'm done she's gonna wish we never met._

Reason's POV:

She wasn't quite sure how he'd talked her into this. Maybe her resolve had been worn down after a week in Jamaica with him, maybe it was the restlessness from all the time she had spent in hotel rooms lately, or maybe Adrian was just more persuasive then she'd remembered. Whatever it was, somehow Adrian had talked her into spending their last night off seeing the Paris nightlife. Never mind that she had a meeting with some of the highest-ranked paladins in the morning, a meeting that would determine whether she'd be returning to Chechnya, that god forsaken sandbox, or moving on to what she really wanted to do: assigned to hunt specific adult jumpers. More specifically Griffin O'Conner. Of course she wouldn't be the main paladin on the case, that was good ol' uncle Roland, but she'd settle for a more minor role. And yet, despite the importance of the meeting, only hours away, she found herself in a little black dress at a popular Paris night club.

"I'm gonna go get a beer!" The blonde paladin shouted over the loud music of the club. "You want anything, Ree?" She shook her head, not even attempting to test her voice against that of the singer's, which was being blared from speakers throughout the club. "Suit yourself!" With that, Adrian disappeared into the mass of people, heading in the direction of the bar, and leaving Reason among the crowd of dancing, grinding, sweating bodies. It wasn't hard to blend into the swaying crowd, moving with the rhythm and beat of the song though she had a difficult time understanding the French lyrics. She was the first to admit that dancing, along with French, wasn't her strong point, but the dark room lit only by sporadic flashes of colored lights made it so even she appeared to glide perfectly with the music. She allowed her guard to lower ever so slightly as song after song rolled by, dancing with multiple, faceless partners, catching sight of Adrian only ever so often, always with one beautiful woman or another. It wasn't often she let herself have fun, or even wanted to, in this way. Her preferred adrenaline rush came from hunting jumpers, or training until she couldn't move the next day or testing her skills against a fellow paladin. Still, as she stumbled out of the crowd to the bar after an hour or so of dancing, she had to admit the club was a nice change of pace.

"Adrian," Even though she was right beside him she still had to raise her voice a bit to be heard.

"Hmm?" The blonde turned, smiling broadly, and a bit drunkenly, when he saw her. "What can I do for you babe?" He asked.

"Order me a beer." She requested, her voice lacking the it's usual sharpness as she eyed the brunette girl that Adrian's arm was draped around. The girl too seemed a bit intoxicated, and whispered bits of French in Adrian's ear that made him grin even more wickedly as he requested a beer in French for Reason.

"Here you go Ree." He said pushing the beer into her hands a little clumsily. "Hey, I'm not sure how much longer I'm gonna be sticking around," He glanced meaningfully at his brunette companion, "So you know the hotel address right?" She nodded, disgusted with herself for the faint jealously that rose in her. It was _Adrian_ for god's sake. "Good, good. Alright babe, I'll see ya in the morning bright and early so we can get you to that meeting thingy." As the pair made their way out of the club, giggling and stumbling as they went, Reason quickly decided her jealousy was not from wanting Adrian but from the fact that it had been over a year since she'd been in any form of relationship, physical or otherwise. Taking a large swig of her beer she decided that it was high time to change that.


	6. Chapter 6: But Not Quite

_A/N: Man it's been awhile! Sorry for the wait, but between a busy school schedule and particularly bad case of writers block this story sort of slipped into a rut. Anyway, I'd just like to say thanks to everyone who has left reviews, it's greatly appreciated and is definitely a motivator to write more (even if it may not seem like it). Just a side note to itsmyownlife, thank you so much for your critique :) I apologize profusely for absolutely butchering the French language, and should have mentioned that what I used in the previous chapter came from an internet translator, not exactly an ideal reference but since the only language besides English that I'm at all educated in is Latin, quite useful I know, it was the best I could do. As for all the other mistakes, well they are to be attributed simply to my own laziness and lack of an editor ;). Anyway, I'm glad you like the story and please continue to tell me what I can do to make it better. Enjoy this chapter, even if it's hardly worth the epically long wait._

Reason's POV

It was driving her insane. _Conner, Conner, Conner…_ His name echoed in her mind, completely unfamiliar and yet the moment she had seen him approaching from the other side of the bar she had been sure she knew him from somewhere. She mused briefly that perhaps her memory issues stemmed from the drinks she'd consumed, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Instead she let herself again be distracted by the blaring music and flashing lights of the club, having found herself once more on the dance floor. The hot, sweating crowd seemed more overpowering than before, as if everyone and everything had sped up since she'd left. But rather than being overwhelmed by it all, Reason was kept easily gliding along to the music with Conner's help. His warm body was pressed against her back, and his strong hands gripped her hips, keeping her steady as they danced. Song after song rolled by, and though the two were surrounded by the shifting, grinding mob of bodies, Reason had little concern for anyone but herself and the young man with whom she danced. _Conner...Conner…Conner…_ He seemed so familiar, the memory on the edge of her consciousness but just out of reach.

"Thirsty?" His voice was suddenly in her ear, his lips so close she could feel his breath on her skin. Turning in his arms so they were face to face, Reason smiled and nodded and allowed herself to be led out of the crowd. Her skin was glistening from sweat and her cheeks were a light pink from the heat of the crowd as Conner gently tugged her through the dancing mob, and then guided her onto a barstool.

"Careful," The young man warned with a chuckle as she swayed in her seat. Once more his warm hand came to rest on her lower back, keeping her balanced. Reason mused absently in her unfocused mind what sort of accent colored his pleasant voice. When he had first a approached her, greeting her in French, she had been sure was a Paris native; however when he switched to English for her benefit, hints of both an English and an American accent worked their way into his speech, leaving her questioning her first assumption. "Water good for you, love?" He asked politely enough, though it was clearly implied that he thought she'd had too much. Reason couldn't bring herself to take offense, knowing his assessment was correct.

"That'd be great." She responded, her speech not slurred but noticeably slower than normal. "So, Conner, where exactly are you from?" She asked after he had spoken with the bar tender.

"I travel a lot." He replied with a sort of smirk she couldn't explain. "Originally though, Great Britain. You?"

"I was raised mostly in South Africa, but I move around quite a bit nowadays too." She responded easily, taking the water from the bar tender when it arrived. "And what brings you to Paris? Work or play?"

"A little bit of both." He grinned slyly, leering a little closer so only a few inches separated the two. Despite the flirtatious nature of the action, Reason couldn't help but feel it was almost…predatory. There was something in the way his eyes seemed to catch her every move that caused her to hesitate for a moment. "You?" He asked.

"Tonight's my last night of play." She replied, pushing down her suspicions, a hint of suggestion in her voice.

"Sounds like I met you just in time." The sly grin remained in place on his handsome face, making clear his intentions mirrored her own. "If you'd like, my place isn't far from here…" He trailed off, sharp brown eyes gauging her response. Taking a deep drink from her water, Reason slid carefully from the barstool.

"Lead the way."

Griffin's POV:

It was easy. Almost too easy…but not quite. Suspicions still lurked as to whether or not she truly had failed to recognize him but they faded with each passing minute. After all, it was clear that she was plastered, so drunk it was almost pathetic. Almost, but not quite.

"Lead the way." She responded at last, as he'd hoped she would. Hell, he hadn't even dared to hope it would be so easy. His first plan had simply been to keep an eye on her, follow her when she left, and take whatever opportunity he got to take her down. But the more she drank, the more confidence he gained until he decided to chance confronting her in the club. Imagine his surprise when she greeted him as a stranger, and eventually invited him to dance. And then, less than an hour later, he'd convinced her to leave with him. Almost too easy.

"Right this way." He smiled, taking her hand and guiding the drunken girl to the club's exit. Fresh air assaulted them once they had escaped, a pleasant change from the smokey atmosphere of the club. It was almost four in the morning, and the crowds on the streets had dissolved to small, scattered groups. The pair walked at a leisurely place, Griffin informing his companion that it would only be a short walk to his place as he released her hand in order to place his arm around her waist. And though he told himself it was because it would make the jump smoother, he secretly found himself enjoying the warmth of another human being against him. He kept a close watch on the foot traffic, waiting for a good opportunity to jump, though finding excuses to prolong the walk.

"Hey, mind if I stop for a cigarette?" She questioned suddenly, emerging from the drunken stupor which had left her up until then content with silence.

"Not at all." He replied, though suddenly growing impatient with himself. _Hurry up and jump you idiot, before you lose the chance._ He thought harshly to himself, deciding to do it immediately once they resumed walking. Reason fished idly through her handbag until a cigarette and lighter were produced.

"I don't usually smoke," She excused, blushing slightly though her cheeks were already pink with intoxication. As she fumbled with the lighter, Griffin took the opportunity to study her more closely. Her eyes were a pale blue, almost silver as they caught the moonlight. For an instant her light complexion was warmed by the glow of the lighter, and the flame illuminated the natural, sunny highlights in her blonde hair. Her features were softer, more delicate than he remembered them, then he had portrayed in his drawing of her. As the flame vanished again, and her skin appeared almost to take on a silver shine, he found himself almost doubting that she was the paladin who'd had him on his knees barely a week before. She didn't look like a vicious, ruthless killer, but rather all too innocent, trusting and naïve with her pixie-like features drenched in the Paris moonlight. "Actually, I usually don't do any of this." She smiled nervously, taking a small drag from the cigarette and blowing it away without inhaling. The smoke curled away into the early morning air.

"And what do you mean by 'this' exactly?" He asked smoothly, trying his damnedest to suppress his own second thoughts. _She fucking shot you!_ He thought with failing resolve.

"Getting hopelessly drunk, picking up strange, handsome English men at Paris night clubs and going back to their place at four in the morning." She chuckled a little, Griffin unable to tell if it was from nerves, embarrassment, or drunkenness.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I don't make a habit of taking home hopelessly drunk, beautiful South African girls either." He smiled a disarming smile, taking a step closer. She seemed to relax at this, unhurriedly finishing her cigarette, Griffin accepting a drag here and there when she offered. Once it had been put out and disposed of, Reason looked at him expectantly. "Are you sure you still want to come?" He asked, unsure where the question had come from. What if she said no? Did he actually intend to let her go?

"I just need to know one thing." She responded, seeming slightly more lucid than before.

"What's that, love?" Rather than receiving a response to his question, Griffin was surprised to abruptly feel her lips pressed firmly against his. Her hands clasped his shirt in gentle fists and pulled him to her while she'd gone up onto to her toes to connect their lips. It wasn't forceful or sloppy or aggressive as he might have expected, but rather soft and gentle. He found himself unable to break away from the pleasant kiss, unable to find a reason good enough in his bitter, untrusting mind to deprive himself of a few seconds of harmless pleasure. He could always kill her later. He found his hands grasping her hips with the same gentle firmness with which hers had taken hold of his shirt. The kiss continued with a sort of gentle desperation, a pleasant urgency that Griffin could only contribute to the isolated lives they both lived. The moment was a departure from the harsh reality of his life, an escape to normality. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Griffin had long before learned that pretending to be normal when he wasn't only ever led to _someone_ getting hurt. Sometimes it had been him, but most of the time it was the people he cared for. Memories of E.V. and his pseudo-foster parents both brought him back from the comfortable fantasy of the kiss and, somehow, undermined his determination. Because while he had originally planned to very much hurt this girl he was kissing, something in his mind refused to allow him to soil the pretense with a bloody ending. His mind raced in the moment he broke away from the girl's- from Reason's soft lips: Her chosen profession. Her sadistic demeanor upon their first meeting. The look on her face when he broke her wrist. Her shooting him. Her nervous, almost cute, laughter. Her eyes in the moonlight. Her lips against his.

And with an angry, frustrated, violent shove he made his decision.

He jumped.

And left Reason, wide eyed, mouth partially open, staring at the empty space which he had previously occupied. Her fuzzy mind instantly was cleared by the sensation of the jump and the realization that her handsome, charming supposed-to-be one night stand was actually a Jumper. And not just any jumper as she remembered where she knew the young man from, but the infamous paladin-killer that had ample reason to want to not only kill her, but to do it slowly and painfully. And she stood there for a long time, thoughts in turmoil, thinking of the notorious jumper and how strangely nice it had felt to kiss him.


End file.
